“What a lucky coincidence.” I felt sick to my stomach. “How convenient that my husband did you the favor of dying right before he could tell the firm about your screwup.”
He looked stricken. “I’m very sorry about your husband’s death. I liked Ali. Everyone did. He was a good guy.”
“But that didn’t stop you from trying to turn his death to your advantage.”
“I admit that I did see a chance to save my job.” Beads of perspiration glistened on Bill Warren’s upper lip, despite the brisk day. “In a way that wouldn’t hurt Ali or his family.”
“What was the plan?” I asked. “To erase any evidence of your mistake, and then what? Blame it on Ali?”
He had the decency to look ashamed. “Ali was dead. It wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Your lie would have damaged his reputation even more,” I snapped, losing any fear. “People already believe that Ali bought a house for his secret girlfriend. But you didn’t care about anything but yourself.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket and mopped his face with it. “I was desperate.”
“Is that why you delivered the things that were in his desk?”
“Yes, I wanted to look through them to make sure there was nothing in there that implicated me.”
“And the notebooks? Why did you even bother to give those to me?”
“I honestly thought you might want them.”
“After you looked through them, I assume. Did you do it?” I asked harshly. “Did you pin the blame on Ali for your mistake?”
“I’ll make it right.” He pocketed his handkerchief. “I promise. I will tell the partners the truth.”
“Who were you to my husband?” I wanted to know. “Why did Ali push so hard to get you a job at the firm?”
His eyes slid away. “We were old friends from school.”
“Really? But not close enough for him to ever mention you to me.” I’d made it to my front door, but this agitated, perspiring man no longer felt like a threat. “And his college roommate has never heard of you. That’s a little strange, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Just how close were you and my husband before he got you the job?” I pressed. “Did you meet up occasionally?”
“No, we just stayed in touch via occasional texts.” He glanced at his phone. “I really have to go. I’m meeting with the police in less than an hour.”
He was lying. It was obvious. This man had no intention of telling me the whole truth. Maybe Fox and Lloyd could get more out of Bill Warren. “Well, don’t let me keep you from the police.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me—” he began.
“Good.” I pushed open the front door and slammed it hard behind me. So forcefully that you’d think Fake Jake was responsible for murdering my husband and stealing my life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Before
“Why are you weeding alone?” I asked Ali, offering him a tall glass of iced tea.
“Someone’s got to do it.” His face glistening, he drank down half the iced tea in one go. “I’ve got an issuance that has to be filed by next Monday, so I might have to work next weekend.”
He set the glass down and went back to pulling weeds. I sat on the doorstep and sipped my drink. “I thought Adam was helping you.”
Ali tugged on a weed. “I told him I’d finish it up.”
“Why? You’re the dad. He should be the one to finish up.”
